


Breakfast and Bacon and Bones

by Mackem



Series: Trek Wolf [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Crossover, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-25 06:51:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mackem/pseuds/Mackem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim lets himself into Bones' dorm room. Somebody else is way ahead of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakfast and Bacon and Bones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [canistakahari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/canistakahari/gifts).



> Okay, so, first of all, let me point you in the direction of this post [this post](http://affectingly.tumblr.com/post/40128150079) which explains some of this; I have a headcanon in which Eleanor and Leonard McCoy moved to Beacon Hills following the death of David McCoy, met Sheriff Stilinski, and settled down into a sweet little family together. When Leonard was twelve, Stiles came along. Then [Canistakahari](http://archiveofourown.org/users/canistakahari/) (who inspired and beta'd this, the star!) decided it was even more of an AU, in that maybe, following his hideous divorce at the age of twenty-eight, Dr Leonard McCoy moved to San Francisco to go back to college, where he met Jim Kirk. Jim Kirk who, naturally, wants Leo badly. This takes place a couple of months into that scenario. Ladies and gentleman, the crossover nobody wanted! All credit for this goes to canistakahari, who has made this universe sparkle with RPs and fics of her own and WONDERFULNESS!

Jim lets himself into Bones’ room at just past eight on Saturday morning, because he has a mighty hankering to have breakfast with him. Breakfast with Bones is a magical time in which Jim is allowed to eat all the bacon he wants without getting anything more than a raised eyebrow; at every other meal, this behaviour results in scowls and lectures about cholesterol and ischaemic heart disease and don’t you roll your eyes at me, kid, your body is supposed to be a goddamn temple, _stop filling your temple with bacon_.

Breakfast and bacon and Bones, oh my. The thought of this levers Jim out of bed more easily than any alarm clock could, even well before noon the day after one of Gaila‘s parties. It’s earlier than Jim would like to be up on a morning after, and his hangover has well and truly dug its teeth into his brain, but Jim has never been one to sleep particularly late. And really, even if his head is thumping and his stomach is churning and his entire body is protesting against what he will charitably call ‘a misguided attempt to discover how many jello shots is too many,’ Jim would rather be with Bones than sprawled in bed trying to sleep it off. Nothing is better for Jim’s mood than the all-consuming joy induced whenever he wakes Bones and gets to drink in his epic combination of a sleep-thickened accent and pouty, why-am-I-awake-so-early lips.

Frankly, Jim isn’t used to feeling this way about anyone. He’s not really sure what to do about it. He looks at Bones and he feels somehow _settled_ , in a way he never has before. Sure, he wants to climb him like he’s a particularly grumpy tree, but he also wants to listen to Bones complain about his fellow students, and watch him read medical journals, and fetch him frozen yoghurt to see him smile.

Jim hasn’t quite discovered how to express this to Bones in a way that doesn’t result in a scornful snort; given that all of his efforts so far have involved blurting things like, “BONES YOUR FACE IS PRECIOUS!” he’s pretty sure Bones’ reaction is fair. But he’s working on it, and he’s reasonably confident that he can win Bones over, one day. He knows he’s closer to Bones than anybody else, that he’s Bones’ BFF-for-life, and that’ll do for now. Maybe they’re still too close to the divorce for Bones to view any kind of flirting with anything other than suspicion. It’s cool. Jim can play the waiting game.

He’s still Jim Kirk, though, and thus is still completely shameless, so he unlocks Bones’ dorm room and lets himself in without so much as knocking. He figured out the private security code to Bones’ room less than two weeks after their epic friendship began, because he’s _Jim_ , and he has fewer boundaries than most. Bones just sighed the first time he broke in, and he hasn’t actually _changed_ his code, so Jim figures he’s basically got blanket permission to be around as much as he wants.

Whether he’s allowed to be there or not, Jim doesn’t let himself in until he has two coffees clutched in his hands, because coffee is one of the keys to Bones’ heart, and has stopped Bones’ why-did-you-wake-me-you- _infant_ rants in their tracks multiple times. Jim chuckles at the sight of his friend huddled beneath the blankets on his bed as he walks through the door. He can’t actually see any of Bones, beyond a lump hidden beneath his bedclothes. Bones is very active in his sleep; he always seems to end up tossing and turning until he wraps himself up in his blankets like a human burrito, because Bones is hewn from a slab of pure adorableness.

Jim is helpless to stop the grin that spreads across his face when he calls, “Boooo-ooooones!” in what he knows in an obnoxiously cheerful tone. The body beneath the sheets shifts fractionally as Jim crosses the small room to deposit the coffee on the breakfast nook. “Wakey-wakey! Hands off cocks and on with socks!”

There is a decidedly displeased moan from the region of the bed while he pours the coffee into two mugs; Bones prefers his coffee black, strong, and not sloshing around a cardboard cup. Jim turns his back to hide the smirk Bones’ grumpy awakening produces; that’s why he’s not looking at the bed when a strange voice from under the blankets mumbles, “Who’re you?”

Jim freezes.

When he makes himself turn, he sees the blankets have been pulled down marginally, revealing a pair of unfamiliar amber eyes beneath a peach fuzz of hair. His eyes are rimmed with dark circles and are heavy lidded, and his voice, when he speaks again, is slurred with sleep. “You a murderer? Maybe a thief?”

“No!” Jim protests, wide-eyed. He glances around, just to reassure himself he‘s in the right place; this _is_ Bones’ room, and he _is_ allowed to be here. He may not be expected, but he’s _allowed_. He frowns at the stranger and sets his hands on his hips. “No, I‘m not breaking and entering.” 

The eyes just blink slowly in response. “You sure about that?”

“How could I _not_ be sure I’m not a criminal?” Jim scoffs, mildly affronted. 

“Not what I meant,” whoever it is says pointedly. “Are you sure you should be in here?”

“Look, I didn’t break in, okay? I practically live here. I brought coffee, see?” Jim says with a scowl and a pointed gesture to the steaming mugs. “Burglars don’t bring coffee! Are _you_ allowed to be here?” he asks, crossing his arms defensively.

“I don’t think he’d have brought me home if I wasn’t,” the other guy yawns in response, and sits up; the blankets fall down, revealing his face and his bare chest and _oh shit_ , this guy is a _kid_. Some kid is in Bones’ bed. With his nipples on display. 

Jim‘s mind goes into meltdown. “Uh - is Bones here?” he asks desperately.

The kid frowns in bewilderment. “That a euphemism?” he asks warily, and bunches the sheets protectively around himself. Jim flushes and averts his eyes.

“No! _Jesus!_ ” he whines, already hoping like hell that ‘hangs out with shirtless kids in other people’s beds’ doesn’t become part of his reputation. “Bones is my best friend! That’s his nickname, not - not a super special sex code! I mean Leonard, is _Leonard_ here?”

“How should I know? I was asleep,” the kid says pointedly, then raises his voice and calls, “Leo? Hey, LEO?” 

Silence falls.

“No Leo,” he shrugs, and proceeds to yawn hugely and stretch like a gangly kitten, like the location of the dude whose bed he’s sprawled in doesn’t bother him in the slightest. “You’re out of luck, dude.”

“Great,” Jim mutters. He raises an eyebrow as the kid’s stretch ends in a wince, and watches him flop onto his front with a groan, dragging the covers over himself. Jim should leave - hell, Jim should never have come at all - but…since when does Bones have a secret social life? Torn between desperately wanting to know and _really_ not wanting to picture any more of Bones with this kid, he can’t stop the question from slipping past his lips. “So, when did _Leo_ meet you?”

The kid turns his head fractionally to blink at Jim. “He picked me up at the bus station at, like, four am last night. Or this morning, I guess,” he mumbles into Bones’ pillow, and Jim’s eyes widen. He had asked Bones to come along to Gaila‘s party last night, although ‘asked’ was too mild a term for all the wheedling, encouraging and begging he had done in the name of getting his sadsack of a friend to come and have fun with him; he had been told in no uncertain terms that Bones was doing nothing but staying home to study. Which was fine! Jim just hadn’t realised that what he would be ‘studying’ was some kid. And at the bus station? At four a.m.? _Really_? Since when did Bones go trawling for boytoys in the middle of the night?

“Oh,” he manages weakly, as his mind freewheels. The kid is wriggling in discomfort. 

“Oh my god, I'm sore. I think parts of me might fall off. We didn’t get to sleep until, like, after five,” the kid moans, and Jim has to turn away before his sadistically over-active brain explodes. The boy squints at the clock beside Bones’ bed and whines unhappily. “Dude, it’s not even nine! Three hours of sleep is some kind of special hell. I’m being punished, right? I’m definitely being punished for something. That would actually explain a lot of the last few months. I don’t even care how big my mouth is, I’m sure I don’t deserve anything that leaves me feeling this wrecked.”

At this point, Jim officially gives up. He’s done. He is _not_ going to sit around and deal with a kid who apparently has a history of - of whatever he’s even been doing with Bones that has left him wrecked, _augh_. Jim is going to back the hell away from all of this, and is going to go…away from here. For a run, maybe. Or back to bed. Or maybe to a bar. It’s Saturday. Drinking with breakfast is probably _marginally_ more acceptable on the weekend. And even if it isn’t, if anybody says anything, Jim will just loudly lament that there is not a brain bleach strong enough to erase the things he has pictured. You weren’t there, man, _you don‘t even know_.

That’s the plan, anyway. Obviously as soon as Jim makes a move towards the door it swings open and Bones steps in. 

Their eyes meet. Jim manages an awkward smile and Bones rolls his eyes. “Y’know, at this stage, I’d say I’m actually more surprised when I _don’t_ get home and find you here. Morning, Jim.”

“Uh…hey,” Jim manages. His eyes dart to the bed, where the kid ruins any chance he has of pretending not to have seen anything by speaking up.

“Hey,” he mumbles, and offers Bones a sleepy smile. “Your friend broke in. Or he says he’s your friend. Is he?”

“For my sins,” Bones drawls dryly. “This is Jim, kid. Jim, this is Stiles.”

“Right. We’ve met,” Jim mutters. He takes a deep breath, sets his shoulders, and strolls fake-nonchalantly towards the door. “Okay, so, I gotta get going. Bones, I - I came over to bring you coffee, but I - you’re busy, so I’ll. Uh. Leave you guys to…it?” he says, and his voice actually squeaks. He sees Bones’ eyebrows raising dangerously, so he speeds up, and is almost through the door when he adds, “Keep everything safe, okay?” and gets unceremoniously yanked back into the room with a hand on his collar.

Bones’ face is a mix of bewildered and sceptical. “What the hell - _what_ is going through your mind, Jim?” he asks, suspicion laid heavily over his words. 

Jim looks between the two of them - Bones, with his brows knitted and wary, and _Stiles_ , his mouth slack in apparent incomprehension - and waves a hand awkwardly between them.

“You know. _This_. I don‘t want to spell it out, Bones.”

“Humour me,” Bones growls, and Jim sighs in defeat. The last thing he wants to do is to try and put this into words, because Jim knows he’s going to need a little awhile alone to process this before he can give Bones a hearty slap on the back and congratulate him for starting to move on. He’s stunned. Not disapproving, exactly; more surprised by his choice of partner. Oh, and jealous. There’s definitely jealousy simmering away in his gut, and Jim is suddenly absolutely certain that he doesn’t want Bones to realise this; to work out that that his constant flirting with Bones was anything other than Jim being _Jim_. Good old Jim Kirk, trying to get into the pants of the entire world. Definitely nothing more than that going on in his head, no sir.

So he takes a deep breath, and tries to think of something vaguely positive to say. “Look, I don’t know what the two of you have been doing together, but you’re always telling _me_ to make sure I play safe. Are you saying I can’t tell _you_ -” he begins, and that is as far as he gets before both guys explode into noise.

Bones is bright red. Bones is actually a shade of red Jim has only previously associated with boiled lobsters. Stiles is not far off him; if anything, it’s even more noticeable on him, because his hands have let go of the sheet in favour of flailing wildly, so his entire torso is bared and stained pink. 

“He’s my _brother_ , you _pervert_!”

“Oh my god, he picked me up as in _he drove me here_!”

“I slept on the _couch_ , what is wrong with you?!”

“I’m sore because I was on a bus forever, not because we - because he - oh my god I’m going to throw up my _soul_!”

All Jim can think, as they both bounce denials off him, appalled and scandalised and loud enough to get neighbours banging on the walls, is, _‘oh, thank god.’_

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [He Ain't Heavy (He's My Brother)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/637796) by [canistakahari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/canistakahari/pseuds/canistakahari)




End file.
